


Are You Being Served?

by olimakiella



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Safe (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, Drama, M/M, Movie Plot-Safe, Suspense, Thriller, club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-10
Updated: 2013-04-10
Packaged: 2017-12-08 01:28:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/755392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olimakiella/pseuds/olimakiella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s expensive being a Dark Lord. Nearly everything you do, or want to do, costs money. What better way to gather funds than to force donations? Voldemort kept accounts of his spending. Not quite patient enough for Goblins and gold and vaults, he instead used the Muggle alternative. It seemed to be all Muggles were good for, because it meant that Wizards, and the Ministry in particular, would not get their hands on it. Just in case, the Dark Lord destroyed all records of his accounting, using something that was better than a safe, better than books. Only, no one knows what it was and, after five years, the money’s become a myth. Now a secret sector of the Ministry is after it and only a member of their own can stop them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Are You Being Served?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lordes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lordes/gifts), [appleling101](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=appleling101).



> Written for the 2013 Bottom!Draco Adaptations Fest as a Pinch Hit and Birthday Fic for Appleling.
> 
> AU. Post Hogwarts AU EWE. Special thanks to my beta Blossom D. She’s a lifesaver in hard times. Seriously. To my inspirations Katelin and Apple. Draco wouldn’t be what he was without either of you, nor Apple’s minion translators. And finally, to Apple, Happy Belated Birthday. xxx
> 
> Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended. I don’t own Royal Mail, the TomTom (

Malfoy looked at his wrists as if he were seeing them for the first time. The bailiff finally let the chains drop from their secure hold and stepped away. Malfoy looked at the man and then down the hall to the lifts. Harry saw his Adam’s apple bob as Draco swallowed. When he turned back, Harry caught his eye for a moment, but broke his eye contact with Malfoy when he heard his name being called.   
  
He saw a man staring at him and his brow creased at the ominous sight. He turned back to see that Malfoy’s expression matched his own. When the blonde’s eyes flicked back to him, they were cleared of suspicion and simply stared. Malfoy nodded and turned away towards the lifts at the end of the corridor of the courtrooms when Harry reciprocated the gesture.  
  
Harry faced the strange man, a heavy feeling on his shoulders that he couldn’t identify, and stopped before he bumped into the tall man who’d called his name earlier. He was dressed all in black underneath his dark cloak and wore his glasses low on his nose.  
  
“Mr. Potter,” the man said again as his eyes moved with interest from the lifts up the corridor to Harry. Harry felt a spike of anger inexplicably shoot through his gut. He took a step back and tempered it down.  
  
“Yes?” he answered, not willing to say anything more without showing his discomfort.  
  
The man cocked an eyebrow. “I’m with a special branch of the Ministry.” He handed Harry a stark white business card with two words written plainly on the front.  
  


**T H E U N S P E A K A B L E S**

  
Harry’s eyebrows rose before his eyes did. The man’s expression was the same. “We have a proposition for you.”  
  


*****

**Seven Years Later  
~**~**~**

  
  
“You will tell me what you want for your birthday, or I will beat it out of you, Draco Malfoy.” Pansy shouted over the noise of the club.  
  
Draco rolled his eyes and erected a quick and simple noise cancelling charm they’d all learned to do with their eyes closed by now. The main floor was noisy as opposed to the office, and every two minutes someone was coming up to him, but he wouldn’t go upstairs, because if he did, he knew he wouldn’t be leaving for  _hours_. He wasn’t even supposed to be working tonight. It was his birthday for Merlin’s sake.  
  
“Pansy, I’m busy, would you go and bother Blaise? I need to get these books done.”   
  
Pansy clucked her tongue when she saw that he was actually telling the truth and not simply trying to get rid of her, and left him to cross the dance floor to the bar where Blaise was working.   
  
Her eyes steadily took in  _La Trix_ , the club they all co-owned, it was really busy tonight. She looked up at the neon lights spelling out the name of their Community Service in bold green and white letters. She’d long made her peace with it, being sentenced to this, and even came out thinking their version of community service to Muggles was much more fun than anything any of the others had come up with. The Ministry had taken their wealth, sentenced their parents, known Death Eaters, to Azkaban and their children, too young to know better, to community service. They each received a conditional stipend each month, to be spent on bettering themselves and their relations to Muggles.   
  
Many of their peers had opened charities but a lot of them were unsuccessful. No one wanted to give money to the child of a Death Eater after all. Most of those sentenced had ended up at their club once they heard about it. Daphne’s little sister and Theo were two of them, coming in after three months and adding their stipend to the pool.  
  
It was Blaise’s idea to pool their money and open a Muggle club. It was Draco’s to name it after his aunt, because really, what could be funnier?  
  
Muggles had no idea about the Wizarding World, and the select few who did knew better than to say anything. The Ministry let them do it, they found a certain amount of amusement at the fact that they elected to  _serve_  the Muggle populace rather than obliterate it. They thought it would make them repent and that it served them right  
  
It did, but it also had the added incentive of being able to get blinding drunk whenever they needed.  
  
“Draco!” Draco turned around to see Theodore Nott waving at him. He tutted and put down his pen.  
  
“What?” he said coming close enough that he didn’t have to shout too much.  
  
Theo pursed his mouth and gave him a commiserating look, which meant that Draco wasn’t going to like what was about to come out of it. “We’re low on staff, could you help out? I think we’re reaching capacity tonight. There’s even a bachelor party going on by the booths.”  
  
Draco looked over to where Theo gestured to see a rowdy group of men in the corner. He sighed as he heard their shouts from where he stood. June and July were the big months for weddings. He should have been expecting the influx of drunkards.  
  
“Fine,” he said and pulled off his jacket. He hadn’t meant to be in tonight, it was his birthday after all, but their manager Daphne (always the one with the business head on her shoulders) had asked him to come in and lend his accounting brain to their ledger to make sure it was good enough for the Ministry inspection on Tuesday. He brushed his hair back and looked around for a tray. He hadn’t gelled his hair, so it fell in his eyes every time he looked down. The frustration was already getting to him. The night did not bode well for anyone who pissed him off.  
  
“Here.” Draco looked up to see Pansy had come back and was leaning over the bar. Her uniform was fitted and black like everyone else’s, but she’d unbuttoned her blouse as low as was publically decent. Well... decency was subjective. She pulled out a clip from her hair and handed it over.  
  
He frowned at it and then at her. “Pansy, I will hit you with my serving tray. I swear it,” he said seriously.  
  
She rolled her eyes and then tugged him forward by his shirt. “Just stand still. If this will help with your mood tonight, I don’t even care.”  
  


****** **

Harry watched as Seamus took a body shot off a dancer’s stomach and wondered how this had become his life. He shook his head, laughing at his friend’s antics and leaned back in his seat at a booth. Theirs wasn’t the only bachelor party going on, he could tell. There was another group in the corner whooping and carrying on as if there was no one else around. Drunk as they looked, Harry was sure they believed it too. It was his first time here, though Seamus had come here many times with his future husband, talking about the atmosphere and how no one seemed to care who was with who or what sex they were. It was like a haven, he’d said. Harry understood why he thought like that now, though he’d been dubious before. Not three feet away two men were making out heavily in a booth and in the one next to that a man and a woman were doing the same thing. No one even looked twice. Eyes sweeping over the dance floor, Harry ignored Ron’s calls of ‘ _One more! One more!_ ’ and froze when he saw a group of men sitting down drinking on the other side of the club.   
  
He stood up, excusing himself from the table, and walked along the elevated ring where all the seats were, that bordered the dance floor.  _What the hell are they doing here?_  he thought to himself as he approached them. All of them were sitting quietly, looking like a simple group of friends enjoying a drink after work. Harry knew better. He knew them and what they were capable of doing. He’d been one of them, once upon a time. They didn’t go to clubs to relax. They didn’t relax  _period_.  
  
They didn’t see him coming too busy looking in the other direction. Their eyes followed a man walking by and only when his ex-team leader turned to nudge one of his teammates, did he see Harry standing there. By then it was too late to try to hide his surprise. Instead, a shark-like grin slowly crossed his face.  
  
“Harry,” he said with the air of a man welcoming back a long lost friend.  
  
Harry knew far too much about all of them to buy into it. “Boot,” he said, keeping his tone even.   
  
Terry Boot swept his arm out to the booth. “Care to join us?”  
  
“Not particularly. What are doing here?”  
  
The innocent look on his face had stopped being effective sometime four years ago. “Enjoying the night. You?”  
  
“None of your business.” Harry crossed his arms over his chest.  
  
Narrowing his eyes a little in annoyance, Boot nodded once. “Well, now that that’s out of the way.” He scooted to the end of the booth and stood up, picking up his leather jacket he’d hung over the back. “Boys?” One by one they all followed Boot out, sending glares in Harry’s direction. Boot turned around one last time. “It was lovely seeing you, Harry, as always,” He added on, backing away and almost running into a waiter. “Sorry ‘bout that,” he said to the man and walked off.  
  
“No, it’s fine,” the waiter said mostly with gestures over the music. The waiter then turned back to glare at the men he was serving. “Order a drink, or  _piss off_.”  
  
Harry was about to go back to his table when heard what the guy at the table said, the slow song playing allowing Harry to hear them better. “Well, I’ll take a tall glass of blond with a slice of fine arse on the rim.”  
  
Harry frowned at the line, wondering if people actually fell for it. When a hand came out to grope at the waiter’s said ‘fine arse’, Harry stepped forward as a reflex. He stopped however, when the blond man slapped the guy’s hand away and leaned toward him menacingly. “You look like a learned man. I’ll say it plainly for you. I’m here to serve you drinks, not me.  _I_  am not for sale.” A quick smirk on the drinker’s face made the blond put up a hand. “No,” he said almost absently. “Perhaps English isn’t your forte. How about French?  _Je suis un garçon. Je ne suis pas un prostitué._  No? Dutch,” he said like he was deciding which was best. “ _Je betaalt voor het drankje, niet voor mij_.” The man seemed to be looking at the customer as if judging his understanding. He shook his head. “No? How about Malay?  _Encik, saya di sini untuk membawakan minuman kepada pelanggan sahaja. Bukan untuk menghadiahkan diri saya_." The club-goer wasn’t smiling anymore; instead, he looked a little intimidated and leaned back a little into his friend. His friend was leaning away from him. Harry paused to rest on the back of the nearest booth to watch. “Your friends here seem to be a bit embarrassed by you. How about they explain it? Do you speak Korean?  _Eumnoreul jaegongharo isseumnida. Jeo amigo_. No? Ah, I see. Mandarin:  _Wo zai zhe li wei ni ti gong yin liao!_ " The faces at the table were blank. “Hmm, not getting through. Last try. Japanese.” At that, Harry actually let out a chuckle. " _Moushiwake gozaimasen ga onomimono shika o-uri shimasen_." When all the men did was stare, the blond narrowed his eyes at them. “Give it up, boys. I’m far too smart for you anyway. I’ll come back when you’re ready to order.”   
  
From Harry’s position, he couldn’t see the blond’s face until he turned around to pass him on his way to the bar. When he did, though, Harry nearly had a heart attack. His hand shot out before he could stop it. He would recognise that face anywhere.  
  
“For fuck’s sake!” he heard as a conversation starter and let go immediately before the man could do him any real damage. The irate man glared at him until he realized who he was glaring at. The irritation was replaced by shock. “Potter?!”  
  
“Malfoy.” He rested back against the booth again. “You work here?”  
  
Instantly, Malfoy was on the defensive. “Yeah? And?” He began to walk and Harry stared for a second before he realised Draco wasn’t coming back. He followed him, his eyes absently tracking over to Seamus’ party in the corner on the other side of the dance floor. It only took him a split second to deviate towards the bar. Seamus would understand. It’s not like the Irishman missed him while he licked whiskey off that brunet’s stomach or anything. He brought his gaze back to the bar, where Draco had disappeared, and fought for a spot at the counter.  
  
When he finally got a secure space, he tried to catch Draco’s attention, but stopped when he realised the man was fending off more unwanted attention. “Can I get an orange juice?” he shouted over the music. Draco turned his glare on Harry, but turned around to reach for his order. He opened a carton of orange juice and poured some out into a glass of ice and handed it over. Before he could leave, Harry called out, “You really speak all those languages?”  
  
The glare kicked up a notch. “Why, do you want to take my tongue on a test drive, too?” Draco shot a disgusted look to the man on the stool next door to Harry.  
  
Harry didn’t blame him. “Er, no.” He hesitated and turned his head to the man next to him with an odd look on his face, wondering where Muggles got their chat up lines these days. “I’m just curious, if you can speak all those languages, why are you working here?”  
  
Draco’s expression didn’t change. “The tips are better. Is that all?” he added on with disinterest. To Harry’s left, he could a see another barman nudge a waitress and gesture to the two of them talking. Harry looked across and wasn’t at all surprised to see Zabini and Parkinson staring back at him with shock on their faces. In the background Harry registered the song change to a slow tune he didn’t know. The volume level changed with it so he could actually hear a little better.  
  
“Yeah. I mean – no” Harry said quickly when Draco began to move away. “I want to catch up. This is so surreal.”  
  
Draco cocked an eyebrow at him. “Why?” he asked, as if Harry’s request was the strangest thing he’d ever heard. Harry didn’t see how, if those chat up lines he’d been receiving were anything to go by.  
  
He smiled and shrugged. “This is likely to be the most interesting thing to happen to me in a while. My life has been surprisingly boring since you left it.”  
  
Draco crossed his arms over his chest. “Most people would look on that as a blessing.”  
  
Harry didn’t even miss a beat. “I’m not most people, as you well know. Come on, Malfoy. Just let me take you out,” he coaxed.  
  
Draco snorted. “For what? A Drink?” He looked around at the bar.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes and laughed. “What time do you get off?”  
  
Though he couldn’t hear it, he could see the deep breath Draco took from the rise and fall of his chest. “About five.”  
  
“Alright then. Let me take you to breakfast.”  
  
That eyebrow cocked again. “What?” The blond actually laughed at the ridiculousness of it all.  
  
Harry grinned. “See what I mean. Not fifteen minutes and already, my life is interesting again.” Harry picked up his orange juice and hopped off his stool. “I’m a designated driver, so I have to take a few people home. But I’ll be back at five. I’m taking you to breakfast.” He didn’t even wait for a reply, simply raised his orange juice in salute and disappeared into the crowd.  
  
“What the hell just happened?” Blaise asked him as he passed by.  
  
Draco stopped to place some drinks on his tray. “I think Harry Potter just asked me out.”  
  
Pansy coughed on the water she was drinking. “What did you say to him?”  
  
Draco shrugged. “I didn’t get to  _say_ anything. Presumptuous arse simply said he was coming back at five to take me to breakfast.”  
  
“Are you going to go?” Blaise asked him, his arms crossing over his chest as he watched Draco place sticking charms on his glasses and bottles.   
  
Draco shrugged again. “It’s free and it’s my birthday. He doesn’t need to know that, but hey, at least I get something out of this day other than overtime,” he said with meaning and hefted up his tray with one hand to go back to his section.  
  


****** **

When Harry pulled up to the club again, he could see Draco standing outside. His hands were in his pockets and he was talking to Blaise Zabini. The club was closing for the morning and the bouncers were making sure everyone got out. A bunch of stragglers were making their way out on unsteady legs, still dancing to a beat that was no longer there. He watched them walk off in amusement as he put down the passenger side window, doing a double take when he realised one of the bouncers was Gregory Goyle. He’d given Seamus a mouthful when he’d finally got him in the car and received a group of smiles and snickers for his trouble. His friends, including Ron, had apparently all known who owned the club and had bet on how long it would take Harry to notice. Double or nothing went on how long it would then take Harry to disappear and follow Malfoy around again.  
  
Ron won.  
  
Draco was still standing outside speaking to Zabini in low urgent tones when the dark-skinned man said something and gestured behind Draco to Harry’s car. The blond turned around to see Harry give him a small wave from the driver’s seat. Draco said one last thing to Blaise and walked up to the car. Zabini turned around, giving a final stern look to Harry before he walked off with a group of people Harry vaguely recognised from a lifetime ago in school.  
  
“Where are we going?” Draco said as he got in and shut the door. Harry waited for him to buckle his seatbelt before indicating and driving off.  
  
“I know somewhere that’s open all night.” Not five minutes later, they pulled up to a small cafe on the main road. “So tell me about you, life after school,” he said, trying to keep the topic light.  
  
Draco didn’t say anything until after he’d ordered and they’d sat down in a booth. “Not much to tell. We were all sentenced to community service, as you know. We just decided to pool our resources on a joint business venture that would please everyone involved, including the Ministry.” He chuckled. “It was actually Blaise’s idea to do that.”  
  
“And the Muggle club part?” Harry inquired.  
  
“That was Daphne. We had to foster relations with Muggles in a positive way. What’s more positive than drinking and dancing? Now the name, the name was all me.”  
  
Harry laughed and accepted his coffee, watching as Draco took off his jacket to hang it on the chair behind him. The waitress put down a stack of scotch pancakes in front of Draco, who actually moaned at the sight. Harry swallowed hard and sipped his coffee too fast, burning his tongue in the process.  
  
“And you, Potter? What have you been up to since school?” Draco asked, spearing a piece he’d cut with his fork. He reached for the syrup on the table.  
  
Harry paused and thought about everything he’d been through in the last five years. He thought of all the missions, the training, the betrayal, and him being cast out. “I travelled a lot, mostly,” he settled with.  
  
Draco looked up at him. “Well, if that isn’t the vaguest answer I’ve ever heard.”  
  
Harry grinned. He hadn’t smiled this much in a while. “I told you I was boring. I took off to see the world, saw it, got bored and came home. I’ve been living out of my bank vault ever since.” Harry paused, grimacing when he realised too late he’d brought up money like he was flaunting it in Draco’s face. If it bothered him, though, Draco didn’t show it.  
  
They talked for a while longer, long enough for the sun to rise and traffic to start building up again in the morning rush hour. Harry learned a few things in that time. He found out that Gregory Goyle was, in fact, the bouncer he’d seen and learned that the other one he didn’t recognise was Marcus Flint. He’d learned the names of all the other members of staff, too. All of them were past students and purebloods, except for one Muggle who was working her way through medical school. He also learned that he’d all of a sudden developed a large interest in Draco’s mouth. He watched it while Draco ate, while he spoke and smiled, when he laughed.  
  
When Draco started to yawn, Harry called their breakfast/catch up session to a close. He got up to pay and went to the counter, leaving Draco to put his jacket back on. When the brunet came back, he had a paper bag in his hand and a secretive smile on his face.  
  
“Come on, I’ll take you home,” Harry said softly, seeing Draco’s eyes outlined in a tired red. When they got back to Harry’s car, Draco gave him his address and Harry plugged it into his _TomTom_. “Go to sleep, I’ll wake you up when we get there.” It didn’t even take three minutes for the blond to fall asleep.  
  
The street was quiet when he pulled up to Draco’s house. From their earlier conversation, he knew the blond lived on the top floor of the small townhouse that had been converted into two separate flats. He shut off the engine and turned to wake Draco up. Draco startled awake and Harry gave him a moment to remember where he was. Draco sat up from his reclined position and adjusted the seat so it was upright. He looked around, recognising his home. “Oh, thank you.”  
  
Harry smiled at Draco’s semi-coherent words. “You’re welcome.” He picked up the small brown bag and handed it to him.  
  
“What’s this?” Draco said, taking it.  
  
Harry gestured to it. “A gift.”  
  
Draco frowned and opened the bag, seeing a rather large cupcake from the cafe they’d just left. He took it out. “Er, thank you?” he said, confused. Harry shook his head, still smiling and reached into his pocket. When he pulled out a single small birthday candle, Draco understood and chuckled as he shook his head.  
  
Knowing it was safe to continue, Harry smiled. “I noticed the calendar on the wall behind the counter of the cafe. Fifth of June. Did I get it right?”  
  
Draco watched him as Harry stuck the candle in the middle of the cupcake. “You got it right.” Harry smiled, leaned forward and blew on the candle. It sparked and lit up into a simple yellow flame. He sat back with a satisfied smile. “A trick you learned while ‘travelling’?” Draco said, sounding like he still didn’t believe Harry’s story.  
  
The corner of Harry’s mouth pulled up into a wry grin. “Something like that.” When Draco said nothing, he cocked his head to the side, leaning it on the headrest behind him. His eyes moved between Draco and the cupcake numerous times before his mouth quirked into a grin again. “Did you want me to sing?” he asked when the silence stretched.  
  
Draco snorted and shut his eyes, pausing for a moment before blowing out his candle. He put the cupcake back in the bag and undid his seatbelt. Seeing Harry getting out, he did the same and walked up the few steps to his stoop. He waited for Harry to meet him there. Draco was still watching him oddly as he climbed the last one. “What are you angling for, Harry Potter?”  
  
Harry stayed silent, considering the question. “Hmm, I don’t know,” he said eventually. “Nothing untoward, I assure you.”  
  
Draco narrowed his eyes and poked the brunet on the forehead. “Good. Because I don’t give up the goods on the first date. My mother taught me better than that, Potter.”  
  
Harry laughed. He seemed happy with the news. “This was a date?” he said and took the last step up, effectively ensuring Draco was now cornered against the door. “I’m glad to hear that.” When he kissed him, the chill bite of the morning went away. “What did she say about kisses?” he asked quietly as they broke apart. He opened his eyes to stare at him.  
  
Draco was staring at his mouth though. “Kisses are fine,” Draco said, the words jumbling together with how fast he said them, and dragged him back in. He had a hand buried in Harry’s hair before he finally pushed him away. “But it’s all you’re getting. Not that this wasn’t lovely.”  
  
Harry rested his forehead against the blond fringe of hair. “I want to take you out again.”  
  
Draco snorted. “More breakfast?”  
  
Harry shrugged. “If that’s all you can offer. Sure.”  
  
Draco seemed to be struggling with the words, his brow furrowing every so often as thoughts ran through his mind. Harry didn’t move, simply waited for his judgement. “What do people do with you, Potter?” Draco said in a considering tone after a while of standing still on the stoop of the townhouse, sandwiched between Harry Potter and his front door.  
  
Harry grinned unapologetically. “They tell me yes.” The grin didn’t cease. Draco looked away, too amused to keep a straight face in the supposedly serious conversation. This was a rather big thing, after all. “Yes?” Harry said again in a coaxing manner angling his head around so Draco had no choice but to look at him. “ _Yes?_ ” he said again, stressing the word this time.  
  
Draco finally let out his laughter at Harry’s ridiculousness. “We’ll see” he said, trying to maintain some decorum, at least. “Go home.” Harry didn’t look too happy with his answer and seemed to be trying to find a way to convince him further. “Don’t strain yourself, Potter. Go home.”  
  


****** **

“What are you doing here?” This was not what Harry had thought would greet him outside of the club when he came back two nights later. After breakfast with the blond two mornings ago, he’d returned the night before with an offer to take Draco home again and buy him another round.  
  
Draco had rolled his eyes, but got in anyway. Harry took him to another cafe this time, closer to Leicester Square. It was a surprise how easily they could talk after so many years of conflict between them. But Harry enjoyed himself nonetheless. Draco was actually very easy to talk to and had a lot of memories of school Harry was never privy to, being a Gryffindor and too busy almost dying every year. He never knew, for example, that Blaise went through Hufflepuffs as often as the House Elves changed his sheets. Hufflepuffs gave attention and affection like open faucets, apparently.   
  
He was coming back for another impromptu date. Draco had finally managed a ‘Yes’ instead of ‘We’ll see’ and Harry was taking advantage of the fact. He was smiling to himself as he walked up to the emptying club when he saw Terry.  
  
Terry Boot was sitting on a short wall across the road, staring at the building with interest, as if he was waiting for someone to come out of it. Hearing Harry’s question, and the blatantly hostile tone, he turned. Harry set the alarm on his car with the remote and waited.  
  
The man smirked, amusement in his eyes. “I’m enjoying the atmosphere. It’s lovely here, don’t you think?” He stood up. “Though not as nice as the view from Thanbury Road, I’ll bet.” Harry’s eyes narrowed in anger at hearing the name of the road Draco lived on. So they  _were_  there for him. He’d thought about it, before. Though, really, ever since yesterday he’d thought about little else than the blond man inside. His ex team didn’t just show up together in one place for nothing.  
  
Boot’s eyes narrowed in satisfaction at getting to Harry so quickly and Harry felt disappointed in himself for giving his feelings away so easily. “Interesting method, but our way is simpler, Harry.” The man smiled. “If you’re after it too, you could have just said so. We could work together. I’m sure there’s more than enough to split five ways.”  
  
Harry crossed his arms over his chest. He had no clue to what the man was talking about, but he didn’t have to know that. “I’m listening.”  
  
Boot smiled one of his patented ‘I finally caught you out,’ smiles. It was one Harry used to part take in until he learned the truth. He tried not to think about it. “The ledger is in there. Like you, we think Malfoy has it. At least, we do now. Thanks for that, by the way.” The man nodded his head once in recognition.  
  
Ah. So they weren’t there for Draco until Harry showed some interest. Figured. “Is that so?”  
  
Terry sighed. “Becoming attached isn’t going to help either one of you, Harry. If he decides not to tell you anything, then what?” Harry’s face remained unchanged. Boot rolled his eyes. Seeing that he wasn’t going to get anywhere, the man stood up. “Goodnight, Harry.” Shoving his hands in his jacket pockets, he began to walk up the road. Harry watched him go, making sure Boot turned the corner for a good while before he deigned to go inside. They were after a ledger, one they thought Draco had? How odd.   
  
“Well, speak of the Gryffindor, Potter. Merlin, man, you look different.”  
  
Harry looked up, recognising the speaker. Vaguely. He thought it was Theodore Nott, but he hardly paid attention to all the Slytherins in school and could be mistaken. He was saved from answering when Draco walked out from a room behind the bar, holding a book – the club ledger he hadn’t been able to finish looking over two nights ago. Harry remembered Draco telling him about it at breakfast. Draco slammed it down on the bar and Harry startled at the sound of it.   
  
“Done. I hate all of you,” Draco declared but no one took any notice. He went to pick up a cloth and a tray and had made it around the bar before he noticed Harry sitting at one of the small tables he was walking towards. “Potter? You’re actually here.”  
  
Harry cocked his head to the side. “I said I would be.” And, praise Merlin, after finally getting the answer he wanted, how could Draco possibly think he’d pass it up?  
  
Draco nodded once. “Of course. Gryffindor. What was I thinking?” He shook his head, as if the words explained it all and smiled a little. “I’m almost done.” His attention was grabbed by Daphne walking down the stairs talking on a portable phone. “It’s on the bar, Daphne,” he called out and began piling empty bottles and glasses onto his tray before wiping down the table nearest to him. Behind him, Daphne crossed the now empty dance floor and picked up the book Draco had obviously been talking about. She cradled it to her, like a lifeline and turned around to go back the way she came.  
  
Harry watched it closely. It obviously belonged to the club. It even had its name embossed on the front. It was a simple ledger, not  _the ledger_  Harry knew Boot was talking about. That ledger was myth as far as anyone could guess, because the only people who could have verified it existed were either dead or Kissed. All anyone had to go on was the muddled ranting of a convict so drugged up on veritaserum, no one understood the vague and abstract things he said. No, it was just the ledger for the club. There was hardly the fortune Boot was talking about in there to split five ways. He had to be mistaken.  
  
“Yes, I can do that. What’s the number?” Daphne continued on the phone, slowing down. She looked around and went back to the bar to lean over. “Pen, pen, pen,” she was saying to herself. “Shit,” she settled on and turned to Draco. “Draco!”  
  
“Shoot,” Draco said, still wiping down tables. Harry stared curiously between them, especially when the rest of the crew paused in their cleaning to look upon them with smiles. One of them even took out a piece of paper she usually used to take down orders, that she could have given to Daphne instead, and waited with a pen she pulled from her hair. Harry looked around, wondering what was going on.  
  
“Yeah, go ahead,” Daphne said to the person on the line. “Twelve, twenty-one, three, three, fourteen, two, six, nine, one, zero, zero, sixty-four.” She looked up at Draco. “Yeah?”  
  
Draco didn’t even turn around. “Yeah,” Draco said in a bored tone.  
  
“Okay, thanks so much you won’t regret it. Do I need it repeated?” she asked out loud, as if she was just repeating what she was hearing, and chanced a glance to Draco again. The blond shook his head in silence, moving onto another table. “No I don’t need you to repeat it,” Daphne confirmed.  
  
“Move your hand.” It took Harry a second to realise the blond was talking to him.   
  
“What?” he said cluelessly.  
  
Draco looked at him like he was slow and gestured to the table. “I need to wipe the table, Potter,” he said slowly. “Move your hand.”  
  
Harry jumped into action. “Oh, right, yeah.” As he moved, Draco rolled his eyes and finished. Dipping the cloth back into the solution he’d created, he moved on to the next table.  
  
“Paper! A Kingdom for some paper,” Daphne called out.  
  
Just then, Blaise popped his head through the doorway to the room behind the bar. “Draco, twenty-four cases just came round back for you.”  
  
Draco tutted. “Here,” he said to the nearest person in uniform. “Finish this up for me. I need to make sure they didn’t cock up the order.” With that, he took off the half apron he had on and walked behind the bar to get to the back entrance.   
  
As soon as he was gone, Daphne turned around, finally getting her hands on a pen and pad. She looked around, not seeing Draco and frowned.   
  
“Orders came in,” Pansy said walking back to the bar with a tray full of empties.   
  
Daphne nodded and put down the things in her hands. “I’ll get it when he comes back then, might as well get the form and do it down here.” She took off upstairs to the main office.  
  
Harry leaned over to talk to the waitress Draco had given his cleaning supplies to. “Why didn’t you give her the number? You took it down, I saw you.”  
  
The girl smiled conspiratorially. “It’s more fun this way. There’s a running bet on the day Draco finally forgets something.”  
  
Another bet, they seemed to be popular these days. “What?” he asked confused.  
  
The girl got more excited. “Draco’s got like this super cool memory. He never forgets anything.” Another waitress with long brown hair walked up, hearing their conversation and nodded vehemently.  
  
“What, nothing?” Harry said with an indulgent smile.  
  
Waitress number one had wide eyes, like she thought it extraordinary. “I know! It’s ridiculous.” She shook her head. “People like that are so rare, like ten percent of the world’s population rare.”  
  
“Heads up,” waitress number two said nudging her workmate. Her name tag had ‘Astoria’ written on it.  _So this is the littlest Greengrass_ , Harry thought to himself.  
  
Harry looked around them and noticed Draco coming back out front, yelling at the men in the back to pack the drinks away only and not open anything. The blond was then distracted by Goyle as he gave him a ten pound note to shove in the till for him.  
  
“Draco! There you are, give me the number.” Daphne was rushing down the stairs with a clipboard this time and rested it down on the bar when she got there. “I need them as individual numbers, yeah? It’s their company account number I have to pay the money to.”  
  
Draco stood with his hands on the counter and leaned over to look at the light green form his manager brought downstairs. “You ready?” The blond looked bored.  
  
Daphne nodded, her pen poised.  
  
Draco began. “One, two, two, one, three, three, one, four,” he rattled off. Harry watched as Draco recited the numbers smoothly in a rhythm without fail. Harry’s eyebrows rose as each number just continued to be announced. “Six, nine, one, zero, zero, six, four” he continued. and then waited. “You want me to repeat it?” he said mimicking her question earlier.  
  
The brunette looked up. “Would you?” Draco rolled his eyes and repeated it, watching his manager as she matched the numbers Draco said again to the numbers she’d written down. At the tables, Harry idly registered the waitresses doing the same.  
  
“Good?” He looked up at Daphne and then down to the form twice and waited for confirmation before walking away. “Potter, you ready?” he said, as if he hadn’t just impressed the hell out of the man.  
  
“Er, yeah.” To the two in front of him, he asked, “Did he get it right?” with interest. He couldn’t tell by himself. He’d stopped listening after the sixth number and even then with all the distractions he was lucky remembered the ones he did. That was a long number to remember so well in such a short space of time.  
  
Astoria rolled her eyes. “He always gets it right. Sometimes I wonder why Daphne bothers to keep a ledger, Draco’s so much better at it.”  
  
“And better looking,” waitress number one added. Harry had to learn her name eventually.  
  
Astoria nodded like it was a shame. She looked at Harry. “Too true.”  
  


****** **

  
By the time Draco shut the passenger side door, Harry couldn’t keep his mouth shut anymore. “So, you have a good memory.”  
  
Draco sighed, like he knew this was coming. “I suppose so.” He put on his seatbelt and waited.  
  
Harry chuckled, knowing he wasn’t going to get anything out of the blond unless he forced it out, which he wasn’t going to do. He switched on the engine. “Must come in handy, working in a bar.”  
  
“It has its advantages, yes.” Draco was looking out the window now, at shops and businesses he passed everyday on his way to work. There was silence then. They pulled up at a traffic light and Harry tapped the steering wheel waiting for it to turn green. He noticed other cars pull up and sat back.   
  
When he heard a noise on his right, he turned to look out the window and saw a car full of people with ski-masks. Frowning he looked left to see a van with the same inhabitants. Immediately, he put up the windows and shifted into first gear before speeding off. He ignored the honking of the cars crossing the junction and didn’t register anything besides the need to get away from the cars that had tried to encase them. But then they were there, speeding up alongside him, swerving to box them in as they took out what looked like bats and began hammering at his car.   
  
The car on his left accelerated in front of him and another came up to his side. Harry’s heart leapt into his throat when he realized they were boxing him in. He knew it was so they could slow him down to an eventual stop and drag them out of the car.  
  
He’d come up with the move after all.  
  
As soon as the box was complete, and they were surrounded on all sides, Harry felt Draco grip his arm hard. They got bumped from behind and Harry shook off his hand before grabbing it and threading their fingers together. He squeezed tight to get Draco’s attention. He got a resolute look on his face as he turned to him. Draco was looking all around in a panic.  
  
“Draco, look at me.” Draco glanced at him, but the noises made him look around again. They were knocked hard again from behind. He’d never liked working with civilians for this exact reason. They were easily distracted. “No, Draco, look at me. Draco!” The sharp yell made the blond man turn and focus on Harry. “That’s it, focus on me. Okay?” Draco nodded to him and Harry smiled despite the serious situation. “Just keep looking at me. I need you calm for this,” he said as he stared at him. Draco just nodded. Harry moved their hands to cover the gear stick and said, “Now, keep calm, and hold on to something.”  
  
He waited for Draco to get a good grip on the handle above his window before he slammed on the brakes. There was a heavy thump as the van behind crashed into them, but the move effectively separated them from the other three vehicles that kept on going far enough for Harry to shift gears. He shifted into reverse, hit the accelerator and slammed into the van behind him again before shifting once more to first. He turned around right next to the van and sped off in the other direction. He loosened Draco’s grip on the gear stick and switched their hands around so Draco was gripping onto Harry’s hand instead. “You still focused on me, Draco?” he said, looking into the rear view mirror. He could see the cars turning around to come speeding after him. It was definitely his old team. He’d recognize that driving anywhere.   
  
Harry heard a small, “Yeah,” and nodded before shifting down quickly to turn sharply around a corner. The back wheels drifted a little, but straightened perfectly as he took off again.   
  
“Good.” He shifted gears again and again, gaining speed as he tore through red light after red light like the night bus, not particularly caring if he broke any laws at the moment.  
  
He needed somewhere to go. He needed to call Intelligence, but that was out of the question right now, as he wasn’t a part of the unit anymore.  _Unless_. “You know how to use a phone, right?” he asked suddenly.  
  
“What?” came a faint, confused answer and Harry shifted around until he could seize a moment to grab his mobile in his pocket.   
  
“Dial this number for me.” He prattled off a number, knowing enough about Draco now to know he wouldn’t need to repeat it. But after a short pause, he looked over to see what Draco was doing. “What? You know how to use a mobile, right? I saw Daphne using a cordless, it’s not that different.”  
  
Draco seemed to be panicking again, his hands shaking as he tried to make the phone work for him. “Nokia’s! I only know Nokia’s. You had to make this hard and own a Sony Ericsson?!” His voice rose with every word, and to punctuate it, he waved the offensive phone in Harry’s face. “The keypad is locked! It won’t let me dial and ‘menu button-star’ is  _not working_!”  
  
If it wasn’t such an emergency, Harry would have risked a smile. But Draco looked fit to skin him alive for daring to own something he wasn’t accustomed to, so he simply said, “Press the power button and then swipe the screen.” He kept driving straight, turning whenever he caught sight of the group of cars. “Put it on speaker” he said as he approached a roundabout.  
  
The tinny sound of ringing filled the otherwise silent car until there was a click and a sleepy, “ _What the fuck, Harry?_ ” filled the car. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”  
  
To that, all Harry said was, “I need a safe house.”   
  
There was a pause. “ _Fuck_ ,” was muttered through the speaker and then a more awake sounding, “ _Hold on, I need to get into the system_.” There was another pause. “ _Are you using your TomTom?_ ” There was a series of clicks. Living for so long in the Muggle world, Draco recognized them as the taps of a keyboard. Next to him, Harry nodded as he gave the voice an affirmative answer. “ _Okay, I see you. Mother of Merlin, what happened to your car?_ ”  
  
“Boot,” Harry said the name with distaste and Draco looked across the console to stare at him. He hadn’t heard that tone since they were in school. That tone had been reserved for his name once upon a time. He felt an odd sense of calm at the distraction this train if thought was giving him. They’d come far since school, apparently. Draco was rather curious to who could have replaced him.  
  
 _Careful what you wish for,_  he thought to himself as the back of their car was rammed once more.  
  
“Shit!” Harry yelled and swerved to avoid another collision.  
  
Draco held onto his handle bar again.  
  
The voice on the phone hummed like he understood. “ _I see them. I have a bolt hole for you. It’s close, though. Try not to lead them there, Harry._ ”  
  
“ _I know that,_ ” Harry bit out.  
  
The voice sounded like he disagreed with that statement. “ _I only say it because it seems your time out of the field has stunted your ability to lose a tail. It’s two lefts coming up soon, fifty yards after the first. The second is a parking space. I recommend you speed up to get an adequate lead. I can take care of the rest. How do you feel about driving in the dark?_ ”  
  
“It is dark,” Harry said, a hint of confusion on his face.  
  
There was a chuckle on the phone. “ _Oh, Harry._ ” The voice turned serious then. “ _I suggest you reverse this one, Harry, and take off your headlights. I see theirs’ are all knocked out. Sharp left. Now!_ ”  
  
Harry turned another corner, swinging fully around to make a two-seventy degree turn onto a road with no cars. As he shifted into reverse, the voice on the phone said. “ _Last recommendation of the night. Memorise what’s behind you._ ” Both Harry and Draco looked back in confusion just as every light on the streets surrounding them went out. There was no moon in the sky, so the area was pitch black. Even more so when he took off his fog lights. The band of cars swung around the corner just as he did and Harry wasted no time in reversing up the road to get away. “Shit,” he muttered to himself. He then became distracted when he noticed Draco counting and didn’t think anything of it until he remembered being told the next turn was fifty yards and on the left.  
  
“You’re counting the yards until we turn?” He said trying his hardest to remember where the cars were parked on either side of the road. There was a crash and a flash of light as something caught on fire. Harry quickly turned his head to catch it, but couldn’t look for too long.  
  
“Slow down now. Turn!” Draco said.  
  
“ _Who’s that?_ ” There was more tapping at a keyboard.  
  
Harry turned into the alleyway, and reversed back slowly until the back bumper softly tapped something solid. He then shut off the engine and waited. He could hear Draco's ragged breathing as they looked out into the pitch black street. The sounds of other engines were getting closer, but he couldn’t see anything.   
  
“ _You’re in. Welcome Harry._ ” The place they’d parked flooded with light. Harry looked around the space realizing they were in an alley but it was completely closed off. There was a large garage-like door at the mouth of it. It looked very solid. Harry breathed a sigh.  
  
“Thank you, Dennis. Seriously.”  
  
“It’s my job, Harry. Now, seriously, who’s with you?”  
  
Harry looked across. “It’s Draco Malfoy.”  
  
There was a pause. “ _Well… was not expecting that._ ” Dennis chuckled. “ _I know we’re not with them anymore, Harry, but I’d appreciate if you followed protocol anyway. I’m in the same place._ ”  
  
“Yeah,” Harry breathed. “Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.”  
  
The phone cut off. Harry looked across to Draco again and asked him if he was alright. All he got was a shaky nod. He sighed again and looked down to his lap. It was then that his eyes lit upon his hand on the gear stick above Draco's. They were gripping it tightly and their fingers interlaced over it. He looked back up over the dashboard and ran his free hand through his hair. Not many things got to him. But that… when it happened so quickly and he had no time to plan – it shook him. Something was on fire outside and he could hear shouting. If someone was hurt, he’d have to expect his team to come after him harder than before. He sighed heavily. He needed some sleep.  
  
Harry removed his hand and moved to open the car door. Draco looked at him confused and undid his seat belt to do the same. He followed Harry to the front of the car and met him there. “Wh-”  
  
“Shh.” Harry held out his hand to Draco, who watched it with a confused look before taking it, and began to walk. “Just come on.”  
  
Draco fell silent and looked at their joined hands as he was tugged along gently. When they got to the back of the alley, Harry took out his wand and stuck it into a hole in the brick. He twisted it once to the right and the bricks peeled away to show steps leading up and turning a corner. Harry gestured for Draco to climb. “Third floor,” he said and followed him up.  
  
They reached a door on the third floor, which had to have been put there recently because it looked brand new. It was all smooth metal, with just bolts to mar its surface. Harry searched through his pockets and took out a bunch of keys. He selected the oddest looking key on the ring and turned it clockwise until the door snapped open. He opened the door wider and gestured for Draco to go in first and switched on the light. It was an apartment.  
  
Draco looked around at the sparsely decorated living room and near empty kitchen, save for a table, three chairs and a toaster. The door closed behind him and Harry walked up, looking around and then moving to another door which led to the bedroom.  
  
One bed.  
  
He sighed and turned back. “There should be some clothes in there. The bed linen is clean, I guess. You can take the bedroom, I’ll sleep out here,” he said and sank heavily into the sofa. It looked too short to fit him and Draco said so himself. “It’ll be fine,” Harry said and stretched out. It was just big enough for him and he smiled, the night may not be so bad after all.   
  
It was just after five now, since he’d picked Draco up early, so he should probably get some sleep. He got up to go into the kitchen instead. Shuffling footsteps followed him in as he checked through the fridge and the cupboards. When he’d gone through enough to know there were adequate supplies for a night, he turned around and leaned on the counter. He closed his eyes, soaking it all in.   
  
When Harry opened his eyes, he saw Draco leaning opposite, staring at him. “I’m not going to ask what you used to do,” the blond said, getting it off his chest. “It’s not my business unless you want to tell me, but you have to know I’m deathly curious about all this...  _travelling_  you’ve been doing, Harry.”  
  
Harry snorted and shut his eyes again.   
  
“You came in to pick me up, right?” The question caught him off guard; Harry opened his eyes and cocked his head to the side. Draco put up his hands in surrender. “I’m just checking, you know, if this was supposed to be the third date.”  
  
Harry gave him a wry grin. “Not much of a date, though, huh? I didn’t even feed you.”  
  
Draco laughed, the action breathless as he covered his face with his hands. Just as quickly, he dropped them and shrugged as he walked the two steps he needed to bring himself closer to the brunet. “Honestly? I wasn’t talking about the actual date, so much as what was supposed to come after.” He gave Harry a significant look and reached forward to pull Harry toward him.  
  
It didn’t take much for Harry to catch on after that. “Are you sure?” he asked him, leaning backwards again.  
  
Draco paused and stared at him, incredulous. He took a step back on purpose, pulling Harry with him. Harry fell against him, bracing his hands quickly on the counter at either side of Draco’s waist. “Potter really?” he said, gesturing to where he was standing and the fact that Draco had been the one to put him there.  
  
Harry had been thinking about this for two days straight. He never imagined Draco would actually let it happen. But if he was offering... Harry was going to give up. “Yeah, you’re right,” he said, finally leaning in for a kiss. He moved his hands from where they rested to Draco’s hips to bring him impossibly closer. He felt sparks of electricity when their clothed cocks brushed in their jeans and broke off with a gasp. Draco took advantage of that and drove his tongue into Harry’s mouth, his arms reaching up to anchor Harry in place. Harry groaned at the sensation and leaned heavier into Draco, pushing him back and up so he could crowd between the blond's legs.  
  
That felt better.  
  
The kiss slowed and he sighed. Yes, this was better. This was...  _peaceful_.  
  
His hands slowly moved up Draco’s thighs, as Draco’s ran down the front of Harry’s shirt, from button to button. Harry shivered a little and idly wondered at where the central heating thermostat was. He was distracted then when Draco found the halfway done up zip of his jacket and proceeded to wrench it down so he could strip off Harry’s jacket. Harry let go of Draco long enough to throw it down on the counter, but instantly returned his hands. The skin under the trousers were warm and he couldn’t wait to get his hands on it.  
  
With that thought in mind, his hands made a bee line for Draco’s zipper and tugged it down in no time.  
  
Draco’s breath hitched at the cool air on his arse, even more so when it hit the cold counter. Harry dragged him far enough to the edge so Draco was barely balancing, but it made it easier to take off his work trousers. Draco’s hands weren’t idle either, he’d already got Harry’s shirt open and was working on his jeans next. Harry undid Draco’s waistcoat and only undid enough shirt buttons to lift the shirt up and over his head to throw it in a corner.  
  
Hands finally on his skin, Harry stood there just holding on and kissing him. It was remarkably intimate for two men who’d never had a kind word to say about the other until three days before. Harry’s hand was searching blindly for something – anything to use as lube, but he couldn’t find anything helpful. He looked at the fridge, but forewent his thoughts of butter, focusing on looking for cooking oil.   
  
He found it in the cupboard next to Draco’s head.  
  
“Thank Merlin,” he muttered to himself and felt Draco smile against his skin from where he’d been licking and nipping at his neck. He tried to be graceful, but that wasn’t going to happen with Draco doing things like that with his tongue. So naturally, the bottle toppled over and a good quarter of the oil spilled on the counter before he could set it to rights. The only advantage was that he wouldn’t have to tip the bottle again.  
  
Draco moaned at the first finger, his fingers tightening in Harry’s hair as the brunet nipped along his jaw line. Harry waited for the tight heat to relax around the digit before he started to slide it in and out slowly, only picking up pace and sliding in another when Draco began to open up to him. Draco’s mouth had gone slack at the sensation, periodically forgetting to respond to kisses. He tried again, with fervour, to initiate another kiss, but then Harry added a third finger and he forgot all over again.  
  
Harry thought he’d been turned on before, but when Draco told him ‘enough’ and he didn’t listen, the blond had bit down on his shoulder  _hard_  to make him stop. Dark grey eyes, nearly swallowed by the pupil, stared at him as Draco slammed his hand down in the oil on the counter and grabbed hold of Harry’s cock to slick it thoroughly. Harry was sure if he could balance right, he’d have guided Harry in himself, but his precarious position at the edge of the counter made too much movement tricky.  
  
He held onto Draco at the waist with one hand and lifted his knee with the other and guided himself in, the extra slick he got from the oil causing him to slip once or twice. When he finally breached the tight ring all his concentration was focussed on not coming immediately. Draco was hot and tight and perfect. And Harry... was not going to last.  
  
“ _Fuck_ ,” he said with meaning. He slid in further, shaking at the effort to not thrust and mark and claim all the miles of skin before him and under his hands. He hid his face in the crook of Draco’s neck and waited as patiently as he could for the go ahead once he was seated to the hilt.  
  
Draco was trembling around him, likely experiencing much of the same things. The intensity of it was unbelievable. Part of it was the adrenaline, and Harry knew a part of him would regret letting Draco talk him into this, but the part currently buried inside of the blond didn’t give a shit.  
  
“Harry, move,  _please_.” Draco’s breath hitched at the last word, because once Harry heard the word ‘move’, he didn’t even think twice. He thrust in carefully and measured. He didn’t want this over too fast, things like this didn’t happen often and he was going to enjoy it as much as he could. He could feel Draco’s legs tightening around him, his ankles crossed at the base of his spine. Draco’s legs were long and strong, pulling him in whenever he pulled out. It made his thrusts harder, the breath in his lungs sharper.   
  
It made him never want to stop.  
  
His arms wound themselves tightly around Draco, feeling arms reciprocate the motion around his shoulders as the blond hung on to him like a lifeline and he moaned wantonly in his ear. Harry wasn’t far off. He couldn’t really keep quiet during sex. Sex that he really enjoyed, there was no chance of silence. He’d likely gone so long without enjoyment that he didn’t know how to hold in his expressions of pleasure when he had some.  
  
And he was getting some, especially when Draco tightened like a vice around him and came, slamming down an orgasm on him so strong, his knees nearly buckled at the surprise.  
  
He remembered seeing white, and then black spots. He remembered a feeling like floating and then it was over and he was exhausted and panting into Draco’s neck hanging onto him like a child. Draco’s skin under his was soft but damp with sweat. They were cooling down, evidenced by the shivering Draco was doing. Carefully, slowly, he pulled out of the blond, hissing as his over sensitised cock went from molten heat to chilled kitchen. He stepped back to let Draco down and yawned. He was really tired now.  
  
Draco was yawning too, but then again, yawning was contagious, so Harry couldn’t be sure. He took the blond’s hand anyway and led him to the bedroom. There was no way he was sleeping on the couch after that.   
  
He’d deal with his conscience later.  
  
Hours later when he woke up, he still felt exhausted and turned over to see grey eyes already alert and watching him.  
  
“You were an Unspeakable, weren’t you?”  
  
Harry couldn’t answer. For more than one reason.  
  
Draco nodded, as if the silence was enough of an answer. “Nice to know.” He lay on his back and stretched.  
  
Harry propped himself up on his side and watched the long vast planes of Draco’s body as he stretched beside him. The muscles shifting under the skin had him mesmerised. “We have to leave soon,” he said, hating to be the one to bring them back to reality, but it would take time to get to Dennis’ home and they’d have to find a car. “Come on. Shower.” Draco groaned, but rolled over to sit up and Harry followed him into the bathroom.  
  


****** **

The block of flats was high and not at all what someone would expect when thinking of _Unspeakables Intelligence_. Harry, remembering Dennis lived on the tenth floor, took the lift and then knocked on the rightmost door. He felt privileged that no one else knew where Dennis lived, not even the Ministry. The man was an Unspeakable like Harry had been, but his strengths laid in intelligence and surveillance.  _Bit like his brother_ , he thought with a smile and then sobered. Collin Creevey was a sore spot with Dennis. A lot of Unspeakables in his unit had sore spots. Harry only wished he’d figured out earlier it was those exact reasons they were all recruited.  
  
Orphans made the best candidates, after all.  
  
Dennis was a highly sought after commodity, being halfblooded and suspiciously able to hack into just about anything imaginable by combining his innate talents with his magic. The man valued his privacy, and went to great lengths to get it, especially after he was thrown out.  
  
Harry couldn’t be more grateful for that for a variety of reasons. Dennis had found out about what the team was doing and went to their superiors about it, unaware that the orders were coming from on high. He’d threatened to take it to the people. An empty threat since he’d taken the oath of silence, just as Harry had.  
  
Of course, the unit then tried to have him killed. Harry hadn’t known, not until that night....  
  
He hated thinking about it. All the dead eyes staring at him.  
  
So he’d looked for Dennis. Dennis had found him instead. He hardly ever left his home, having gone to ground to avoid further attempts on his life. Besides, as the young man would say, after seeing the things he did every day, London and environs was not a place he’d readily travel to if he had a chance. And there was a lot of London to see through their  _CCTV_  network, which was easier to hack into than a hooker’s knickers.  
  
The door opened and a short, relatively thin man with mousy brown hair answered the door with the chain on. The door shut again, the slide of the chain bolt coming undone before the door was opened wider.   
  
“Harry! Malfoy!” he said to them smiling. “Made it out alive, then?”  
  
“Like you weren’t watching us every step of the way,” Harry said pointing at the wall full of screens. “Thank you, by the way, for the car.” Both Harry and Draco had been surprised to see a new one waiting in the alleyway they’d parked in the night before. Harry had expected his heart to break all over again to face his only prized possession looking like it had gone up against an earthquake and lost. “Your brother would have been proud, using cameras to such an extent, and all to stalk me.”  
  
“Dennis Creevey?!” Draco suddenly said, as if he’d been wondering where he’d seen the man before. “Young, mousy boy that-” He stopped when he realized what he was saying. “Right. Nice to meet you.”  
  
The response was amusement more than anything. “You’re welcome as always, but, Harry, what have you got yourself into now?” Dennis asked with the air of someone who’d been here before. Draco eyed Harry. It was likely a weekly occurrence.  
  
Harry shook his head. “Not me.” He gestured to Draco standing next to him.  
  
The blond was surprised. “Me?”  
  
Harry gave him a look. “Well they weren’t after me.”  
  
“Why are they after him?” Dennis asked.  
  
“Yes, Potter, why are they after me?” Draco crossed his arms.  
  
Harry ignored him and turned to Dennis. “Have you ever heard of the YKW ledger?”  
  
Dennis snorted. “That myth?” He turned to Draco, who was shaking his head to say he hadn’t. “What, they think you have it?”  
  
Draco looked between them. “I don’t even know what that is.”  
  
Dennis turned to one of his peripherals. “Here, I’ll show you.” He made a few taps on his keyboard and then opened a file.  
  
Draco walked closer to the screen, stepping over various wires and circuitry, where he could see  _Rookwood/Augustus – known Death Eater, escaped Azkaban 1996, Returned 1998_.  
  
Dennis narrated as he scrolled through the information. “He was interrogated by Aurors. One of them gave the Wizengamot his memory, but it cut off when a tall man with glasses came in and demanded the prisoner.” Dennis shrugged. “Because Rookwood was Ministry personnel, it made the blow even harsher,” he summarised. “Anyway, he gave up a whole bunch of people that were subsequently arrested.”  
  
Draco shook his head, not understanding. “What does that have to do with me?”  
  
“According to Rookwood,” Harry said. “Voldemort kept a ledger holding all the money he got from ‘donations’ from Death Eater families. No one knows for sure because no one interfered. But after he was killed, no one could find it. It was gone.”  
  
Dennis scoffed. “Or it never existed.” Harry chuckled.  
  
“No, it has to exist. A guy on the team of interrogators in our unit asked about it and Rookwood answered.  _Under Veritaserum_ ,” he stressed.  
  
Dennis rolled his eyes. “The man hardly knew what he was saying at the end.”  
  
Draco’s head was volleying between the two as they spoke. Before Harry could retort, “What are you both talking about?” he finally called out.  
  
Dennis smiled. “According to Rookwood, You Know Who destroyed his ledger because he’d found something better.”  
  
Draco’s eyebrows rose. “What changed?”  
  
Harry interjected. “Two Unspeakables interrogated him with so much Veritaserum he was screaming out information that wasn’t even relevant. When one of them asked about the ledger; where it was and what it looked like now, he and four other witnesses, all reduced to the same state, said ’blond’.”  
  
Harry scoffed, but then paused when Dennis’ words went through his mind again. ‘ _Found something better_.’ He’d heard that before.  
  
 _Sometimes I wonder why Daphne bothers to keep a ledger, Draco’s so much better at it._  Harry turned to Draco, watching as the blond listened to Dennis talk.  
  
Dennis continued. “A team was sent to confiscate the Death Eater wealth that the families of known Death Eaters were using to fund You Know Who’s actions. However, not all of it was recovered and a lot of it is unaccounted for if the states of the family account books are anything to go by.”  
  
“How good is your memory, Draco?” Harry said out of the blue.   
  
Dennis frowned at the sudden change of subject, while Draco stared at him. “One of the waitresses at the club, the medical student, she says my memory is eidetic because I can remember large quantities of information from the time I’ve been in contact with it. My dad used to give me exercises to keep it strong, but when I got to school, I learned to hide it. The exercises were fun, but there were only twelve of them.”  
  
Both former Unspeakables were nodding along until Dennis sat forward, nudging the keyboard he had on his lap. “Wait, what?” Dennis said as if he’d missed something. “Did you say twelve?”  
  
Draco eyed him strangely. “Yeah...” he said slowly.  
  
Collin typed in a series of things and suddenly the screen was full of names. “What were the exercises like?” he asked curiously. It sounded far too casual to be real, though.  
  
Draco started to talk cautiously, like this was some sort of test and he wasn’t sure what he was being asked. “Well, he would give me nine numbers preceded by a letter and then 12 numbers to follow. He’d ask me to repeat them immediately, then a few minutes later, a few hours later and then days after. As each exercise piled on, I would have to recite all of them at once.”  
  
“So it might look like this,” Dennis said and typed up a string of numbers and letters.   
  
Draco’s eyes widened in recognition. “Yes, exactly like that!” He let his crossed arms drop. “How did you know?”  
  
Dennis shook his head, like he couldn’t believe it was this easy. “There was a trip each family went on. The first time I saw it, I thought ‘well everyone has to have a holiday’. But then I realised that every single Death Eater family were in Switzerland at some point between 1996 and 1998.” When he saw Draco’s face he shook his head again. “It’s not just that. It’s this.” He brought up the twenty-two digit code he’d just typed out. “Switzerland is a variable hub for people who want to open secret accounts. It could be coincidence, but numbered accounts in Switzerland are common among folks who wish to remain private or unknown.”  
  
“Numbered accounts?” Harry asked. “I thought those were just used in movies?”  
  
“Mmm,” Dennis said. “No, they’re very real. There are laws now that govern how private ‘Private’ really is, but they did exist.” He pointed to the screen. “A Letter followed by nine digits is the person’s identification number. The other twelve is the account identifier – the acct number. All in all that’s twenty-two characters. There were 12 families, each with a numbered account. That's twenty characters for each family, which adds up to 264 characters.  
  
Harry gaped. “And you remember them?  _All of them_ ,” he asked Draco incredulously.  
  
Draco stared like Harry was making a scene. “But they were just numbers, they didn’t mean anything.” He said like he was refusing to believe it. Harry could imagine how betrayed he must feel, to think his father had set him up like this.  
  
He stood in front of the blond and put a hand on his shoulder to ground him. “To these people, they mean everything. Draco trust me, we need to get you out of here. Immediately.”  
  
Draco huffed out a laugh in disbelief. “Where exactly am I going to go? They’re Unspeakables right? They find you. Nothing can stop them,” Draco ranted.  
  
“Yes it can,” Dennis said.  
  
“Yes, it can... I can stop them from coming after you.”  
  
Draco eyed them both. “How?”  
  
“By exposing them, Breaking the vow,” Harry said, his mind made up.  
  
“Break... the  _vow_  - the Unspeakables Vow? Are you insane?” It was impossible and now that Draco knew Harry was an Unspeakable once upon a time, he knew the vow could kill him if he waivered from it.  
  
“It’s been said before,” Harry recalled.   
  
Draco pointed a finger at him sternly. “Don’t joke about this, Potter, I’m being very serious with you right now.”  
  
Harry got serious too. “Draco, I know things, things that I’ve seen – done, you... Even before I met you again, I was planning this. The world, the Wizarding world, they have to know what we’ve been doing.  
  
That was something Draco was wary about. He could handle Harry being an Unspeakable. The problem was that something had obviously happened that he wouldn’t say anything about. “And how do you plan to do that?” he asked.  
  
“You need to find an Initiate,” Dennis said quietly.  
  
Harry turned to him. “A what?”  
  
“An Initiate, the person who swears us in. Usually they have to die before another is put in place. There’s only one who was disgraced. She’s been living in the Muggle world for years now. No one’s heard of her for a very long time. She’s like a hermit.”  
  
“How are we going to find her?” Draco inquired.  
  
Dennis nodded. “I know where she is.” Dennis interjected.  
  
The two other men in the room stopped to stare at him. “How?” Harry asked.  
  
Dennis smiled. “She helped me out a while back and I repaid her the favour. My forte is intelligence. Initiates either die or are killed. They didn’t kill her, but she wanted to be free, so she gave me something I appreciated. I set her up in a safe house up north. Way North. Call her before you go and I’ll give you the address.” He paused. “You can’t Apparate.”  
  
“What why?”  
  
Dennis stared at him like he was insane. “They’ve had a lock on your magic since you joined Harry. And Malfoy. If they’re following you, they would have had one on you too. As long as you don’t use it. You’ll be fine.”  
  
Harry sighed. “Where are we going?”  
  
Dennis grinned. “Halkirk.”  
  


****** **

Harry sighed as he woke up. The seven hour drive to Glasgow had been tiring. Not wanting to risk being seen, they pulled up to Stobhill Hospital car park and he’d flattened the back seats so they could stretch out during the night. Too many nights on stakeout had pushed Harry to make sure any car he owned had this feature when he eventually bought one.   
  
He looked around at his environment, squinting at the window. The sky had darkened while they’d been asleep. Harry blinked, the hazy fog of pressure and pleasure he could feel was becoming clear. There was a hand circled around his cock pumping up and down lazily. He turned back onto his side to face the owner of said hand. He smiled.   
  
“You’re awake then,” he heard and smiled, not that Draco could see.  
  
“Well, I am now,” he said instead and lay back down again. They were covered with the blanket he kept in the trunk, so it was incredibly warm.  
  
He glanced at his watch to see it was after ten. They must have been tired.  
  
“If you’re checking the time, I’m doing this wrong.”  
  
Harry shuddered as Draco’s grip twisted and then tightened a little. “You’re really not.” He gasped reached forward to pull Draco closer and mirrored his hand, undoing the button and zip and burying his hand in heat and skin, eliciting soft sighs and gravelly purrs from the blond’s throat. It made him want to bite it, so he did. Pushing Draco to lie back he took a hold of his wrists and held them up above his head on the pillows and buried himself into the spot that was already covered in bruises from the last time they’d been intimate.  
  
Harry paused. He should be feeling guilty. This feeling of... wholeness should be gone by now.   
  
Draco arched into him beautifully, impatiently, and Harry was distracted again as his legs pulled him in with fervour. Harry let go of his hands to trace them down his arms and sides as he kissed him thoroughly. When his hands found Draco’s arse he squeezed and pulled down his trousers enough to spread his cheeks apart for his fingers slowly, stopping only to suck at his finger and try it again. He started with one, and waited for the grip of muscle around his digit to loosen before adding another as he stroked Draco to completion.   
  
Draco’s head was thrown back on the carpeted back of his upholstery displaying a tempting column of throat for Harry to take advantage of, but it was already going to be hard for Draco to cover them up and he didn’t think the blond would appreciate having so many anyway.   
  
He watched Draco bite down on his bottom lip to stop himself from moaning too loudly, and each time he did it, Harry kissed him to make him let go. When Draco came, his eyes were open and staring at Harry, though Harry doubted Draco was actually seeing him, dilated as his pupils were.  
  
He rolled off him, listening to his panting breaths as he calmed down. “We need to get going. Halkirk is still five hours away.”  
  
Draco turned to stare at him. The lamppost nearby provided just enough light to see an outline of his face. “I’m hungry.”  
  
Harry chuckled. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?” He sat up.  
  


****** **

Harry rolled the car to a stop on the gravelly driveway. Morning fog was still hovering around the plants in the garden, making it look as if something was waiting in the opaque mist to jump out at him. He shook it off. The small cottage was quaint and unassuming, despite the eerie looking atmosphere. He’d called ahead using the number Dennis had given him, ensuring that the woman they were going to see wouldn’t mind that he was calling so early since it was for a good cause.  
  
Harry sighed, ran a hand through his hair and tipped his head back to the head rest. Staring at the ceiling of his car, he thought about the last couple of days. How could his life have changed so much in such a short period of time? He shook his head and then turned it to the side to watch the blond man sleeping in the reclined passenger seat. Draco had turned on his side and covered himself with the blanket from the back. He was sleeping soundly and Harry was loath to wake him. Having been a member of the squad, he was accustomed to working like this, never knowing when the next move would be and running on far too little sleep and too much caffeine.  
  
He brushed a lock of hair from Draco’s forehead and stared. How odd it was that he would end up in a - what was this anyway? Was it a relationship? Sure, they’d known each other for years, much of that time had been spent fighting and it was only until recently (four days in actual fact) that they started to get along. From fighting to sleeping together; it was all going so fast.  
  
Harry snorted softly. They didn’t do things by halves, that was for sure.  
  
But since he’d seen Draco again, his life, which had been more than bad, felt like it had started up again. It was almost as if his life had been put on pause the second Draco stepped into that Ministry lift and Harry hadn’t noticed how much he’d missed his presence until Draco had turned around in La Trix. Harry shut his eyes and groaned quietly; if Draco could only hear him right now. He’d likely smack him upside the head.  
  
He sat forward and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He should wake Draco up, but the blond was pretty much running for his life for something that wasn’t his fault. At the very least, Harry could let him sleep.  
  
A prickling on the back of his neck had him turning to look around. He froze when he saw a figure in the mist of the garden, but breathed easy again when he recognised the face from Dennis’ computer screen. Matilda Rotheshart. He opened his car door to step outside and she began walking forward when it became evident that he’d seen her. He met up with her at her garden gate. Outside was chilly, so he closed the car door softly to retain some of the heat.  
  
“Dennis sent me,” he said again, though she would have known by now.  
  
“I know,” she said. “He called, said you have someone who needs to have his memory blocked from an Unspeakable.” Her eyes raked his form from head to toe. “It seems you’re in need of my services too. How long?”  
  
Harry didn’t need to ask what she meant. He wanted rid of the vow, she understood that. “Five years.”  
  
She nodded. “Held by a vow you thought you wanted, but powerless to escape.” Her eyes flicked to the car. “Fitting, that you keep yourself in the company of those who can sympathise.” She gave him a small smile and placed a hand on his chest. The air became warmer and something pulled at his chest. The pain became intense, but just as quickly as it came, it left him. It felt exactly like the day he’d taken the Unspeakables Oath. Matilda didn’t even spare a glance for the man who was doubled over in her garden. Instead, she turned to go back into her home. “Wake him, the potion is almost ready.”  
  


****** **

Harry was lucky that Draco was a walking Most Potente Potions textbook when he wanted to be. The Lethe’s Bramble smelled saccharine sweet as it boiled and Harry swore that couldn’t be normal. When it was placed in a cup, Harry was surprised, he’d only ever seen potions administered in a medical setting. Go figure. He stared at Draco as the blond paid avid attention to the one drop of Veritaserum being dropped into the mixture. “How does this work?” he had to ask.  
  
Draco didn’t miss a beat. “She’ll talk to me, ask me questions, everything that I answer will be forgotten within the half hour.” Draco looked up. “So unless you want to tell me why you’re so set against the Unspeakables, don’t say anything to me.” He went back to stirring the potion as per Rotheshart’s directions.  
  
“I’m not against the Unspeakables, just one squad. I have my reasons.” He was ready to bury it, like usual, when he realised again for the third time in an hour that he was free. Each time he remembered he felt giddy. “Sit down. I’ll tell you.”  
  
Draco seemed shocked, but sat all the same as Harry began his story.   
  
“They came to me after the war. They came to a lot of us. We don’t have families, you see. They always recruit the ones with no family,” he said bitterly. “Boot had just lost his father, Dennis lost his brother and his parents.  
  
“I never had anyone, so I was more accustomed to it and used to working on my own and thinking independently without all the grief holding me down and keeping me open and trusting.  
  
“I asked questions, all the time, and they fed me lies, made me believe I was doing something good. We were finding Death Eaters that were in hiding, bringing them in for justice. I thought ‘Okay, I can do that.’” Harry swallowed hard, the next words were difficult to say. “And then Terry killed someone. It was a man, he’d been protecting his children and Terry had shot him down with an Avada.” Harry shook his head. “It wasn’t the last time either.” He dropped his head into his hands. “Then it happened to me.” Harry took in a deep breath. “The marks aren’t gone, you know that, not completely. It takes time for curse marks to fade.” Draco nodded. He had noticed the scar on Harry’s forehead was still there, just not as prominent as before. “He attacked me. A man in his own home. I reacted. I killed him.”  
  
Draco reached out a hand. Harry shook it off. He didn’t deserve comfort for this. “He didn’t have a mark, at all. They’d chosen a home at random, an associate of a Death Eater family, but no ties to Death Eater activity. Their only crime was  _knowing them_. I asked how long it had been going on, because when I brought it up, no one seemed surprised.” Harry looked up at the ceiling. “Five years, Draco.” He transferred his gaze to the man across from him. “ _Five_ fucking years of bringing people in to be kissed who had no mark and children, but large bank accounts. I will stop them if it’s the last thing I do.” He gestured to the cup in front of Draco. “Finish your potion.” He got up and walked out of the room into the kitchen to give him some privacy.  
  
Draco thought about what Harry was saying. He stirred the potion three more times and had just stood back up, declaring it done, when she walked into the room. Harry walked in again and leaned against a wall watching them with a sombre expression.  
  
Matilda clapped her hands once. “Right, just to be clear, you want to forget any information that will lead people to your family’s money.” Draco nodded. “Drink it down, then. It’s instant.” Draco felt a heat going down his throat and spreading in his stomach. It was sweet. Like honey or pure brown sugar.  
  
“Fire away,” he said coughing a little at the heat in his throat. A creeping headache surface in his mind, the pain of it sharp and throbbing.  
  
All of them jumped when a window was blasted clean away from the wall and scattered pieces of glass fell everywhere. In the blast, Matilda tumbled forward, her body lying on the floor hadn’t moved. There was glass sticking out of her back.   
  
Draco stared. How had they found them?  
  
 _They’ve had a lock on your magic since you joined Harry. And Malfoy. If they’re following you, they would have had one on you too. As long as you don’t use it. You’ll be fine._  
  
Draco looked at the cauldron. It was impossible to brew a potion without magic. He couldn’t help but look back at the dead body of Matilda Rothshart again. He’d done that.  
  
That was his fault.  
  
Harry rose to action immediately, pushing down Draco’s wand. He didn’t know what the blond was doing, but the last thing he needed was the Draco muttering spells he wouldn’t remember by the time he had to recast.   
  
Terry Boot walked into the living room like he owned the place. “Three of my men are dead because of you Harry.” The glass crunched under his feet, the noise announcing his presence before he could. “Thought I’d even the odds.”  
  
Harry remembered the small explosion he’d seen when he was trying to avoid being killed. “How upsetting, to be on your own, every fight in odds against you,” Harry said snidely, the pain from his own team’s betrayal hitting him again. “Too late, Draco’s already forgotten,” he bluffed. “She was an Initiate, and she had the counter spell for it. You’ve killed her so the numbers are gone forever. He doesn’t have the memory anymore, it’s blocked. And you killed the only person who could reverse it. It’s not coming back.”  
  
“It’s not all gone though,” Draco suddenly said and covered his mouth with his hands.  _Fucking Veritaserum_.  
  
Boot held Harry at Wand point and asked the one question he knew he’d get a truthful answer to. “Give me the Swiss bank account numbers.”  
  
Harry’s heart fell as, one by one, until the memory was completely gone, Draco listed them number by number and letter by letter. All the while he looked at Harry as if he couldn’t believe it was happening, he’d promised it wouldn’t happen.  
  
Then pandemonium exploded on the small Halkirk cottage.  
  


****

Harry saw Draco walk out of the courtroom with a vague feeling of déjà vu. The feeling disappeared when Blaise and Pansy exited at his side. He caught the blond’s eye and nodded. When the Aurors had burst into Matilda’s home, everyone had ducked except for Boot. He apparated out, escaping the best way he knew how. They caught up with him, under polyjuice at a bank in Zürich trying to withdraw money from one of the accounts Draco had given him. Harry thought it served the man right for trying to kill so many people.  
  
Draco nodded back, his eyes flicking over to something behind him. Harry turned, curious, to find Ron walking towards him in his Red Auror garb.   
  
“Mate. It’s such a shame.”  
  
“What is?” Harry asked with a frown.  
  
Ron’s eyes were wide with disbelief and crushed hope. “They’re  _empty_. Boot is livid. We caught him in Zurich, but it didn’t matter anyway because all the accounts were empty. Completely wiped clean. According to the bank personnel they were cleared out years ago by the holders of the account. So what we confiscated, was actually all they had left of what You Know Who spent. Such a shame. We could have used the resources.”  
  
Harry refused to even touch that. He turned back around to see the lift doors closing on Draco. The blond was smiling and gave him a small wave. Harry waved back.  
  
When he looked back at his friend he found Ron staring at him. He began to walk to the lifts now. “Seamus wants to go back to that club, you know.”  
  
“Hmm?” Harry said walking alongside him.  
  
“La Trix. He said you owe him a proper night out, one where you’re not stalking our ex-classmate.” It looked like it pained him even to say that. Harry laughed. “I wouldn’t mind it. It’s a decent place. They must have been glad for all the donations they got as a start-up.”  
  
Harry frowned as they waited for a lift. “What do you mean?”  
  
“Well the Ministry stipends are paltry at best,” he said with the air of a man who knew this intimately. “Even if they pooled together. They applied for some grants and got a few people donating to them anonymously.”  
  
“When?”  
  
“What?”  
  
Harry’s heart was palpitating oddly. “When were they donated?”  
  
Ron looked at him like he was a man possessed and took a small step away from him before he answered. “I don’t know. They were given a deadline, so it would have had to have been around the trials, I guess.”  
  
Harry shut his eyes and leaned against the wall.  
  
“Mate? Harry?” Ron took another step back when he realised Harry’s shaking shoulders weren’t from being upset. He was laughing.  
  
 _That little sneaky bastard_.

****** **

“You knew all along didn’t you?”  
  
Draco froze on his walk home from work. When he finally turned around to see Harry in his car inching along with him, relief settled on his features.   
  
“Harry what are you doing?” he asked him.   
  
Harry got out of his car and slammed the door shut. “Those accounts were your parents’ until they died.” He shook his head in disbelief. But he really couldn’t deny it anymore. He took steps closer to Draco, a little gratified when the blond stepped back until he hit the wall. “I knew I recognised the names on Dennis’ computer. I’d disregarded it at the time, but I recognised them. I just didn’t think of how I knew them all until after Boot’s trial.  
  
“You’d given me all of those names at our first breakfast.”  _Our first date_ , he thought with a pained expression. “All twelve of them. All of you had access to those accounts the second your parents were kissed. You’ve been living off it ever since.”  
  
Draco was still watching him oddly, probably trying to figure out where all this was coming from. He seemed very uncomfortable with how Harry was speaking to him, but then he relaxed against the stone. When his face changed into a smile, it was Harry’s undoing.   
  
“Yes.”  
  
Suspecting it was one thing, actually being proven right was another thing entirely.   
  
Draco continued. “My father had a Royal Mail P.O. Box. He used it to get his Muggle mail. Instead of his name was a number, and it matched one of the exercises he gave me as a child. He didn’t know about my memory then and his wasn’t like mine, so he didn’t remember I’d seen the number once already. I asked the others to do the same, find out if they had any Muggle mail. A whole lot of us did. Twelve, in fact; each of us eligible to retrieve it once our parents died. It was like an inheritance, because each account actually belonged to our family. The Ministry wanted our wealth and they took it, but the Muggle world is out of their jurisdiction. We all applied to do Muggle studies at a Wizarding University and they set us up with Muggle bank accounts and identification. Once we were all sorted, we went and cleared out the accounts.   
  
“Where is it?” Harry asked.  
  
If he sounded hostile Draco wasn’t taking any notice. He seemed calm, much calmer than he had under pressure before. Harry wondered how much of it was real. “The money? It’s safe.” Draco cocked his head to the side and raised a hand to place it on Harry’s chest. “this had nothing to do with you, Harry. If you’re hurt, I’m sorry, but I’m protecting my own. Our parents screwed us over. We see it as compensation.”  
  
His own. Of course. “And me? Why did you lie to me?”  
  
Draco shrugged. “You wanted to help me protect it. I would have been a fool to turn you down, especially going against a bunch of Unspeakables.”  
  
It made sense, he supposed. If he’d been offered the help, he would have taken it too. “What are you going to do now?” He shoved his hands in his pockets.  
  
Draco looked up the street to where he knew his club was standing proud. “What we always planned to do. We’ll live out the rest of our community service. Daphne truly loves the place, though. She’s been taking some accounting classes so that she can live without me. It was just a ten year sentence for the rest of us, though.” He shrugged. “After that who knows. Maybe a private island in the Mediterranean.” He waited for Harry to look at him. “I may need some company. Never know when people can get wind of my ability again. Plus, for someone who’s done so much  _travelling_.” He smiled.  
  
Harry was silent for a long while and stared at the blond. “Make it the Caribbean and you’ve got yourself an indentured servant for life.”  
  
Draco laughed cupping his face in his hands and leaning in to kiss him. “Oh please,” he said as he snaked his arms up and around Harry’s neck. “Like you weren’t already.”  
  
 **FIN.**


End file.
